I’m a Buttoned-Up Blasian Diversity Consultant and I Fell the F*ck Apart: My Mental Meltdown During the Summer of George Floyd
Taharee A. Jackson, Ph.D., DrTaharee Consulting
World Mental Health Day
October 10, 2020
I like to think that I am a well-composed, calm, collected, in-control, “got it together” professional, but I regret to inform you that I have fallen the f*ck apart.
This past summer — sadly now dubbed the Summer of George Floyd — was brutal.
At the top of the year — January 13, 2020 to be precise — I decided to forego a lucrative full-time career to pursue life as a self-employed Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging consultant. I had been consulting for so long (16 years) that without a website or a single advertising effort, I had enough keynote speeches, diversity workshops, and antiracism trainings to keep me fully engaged (and fully compensated) until November 2020.
Then the Coronavirus hit.
My face-to-face professional learning seminars for teachers, federal employees, nonprofit community members, and corporate professionals from a wide swath of sectors were all cancelled.
Never in a million years could I have imagined being self-employed — and now kind of UN-employed — locked in my home alone, and fighting for mental health with my life.
I identify as a Christian, and I firmly believe that we are strengthened by the power of one another’s testimony.
As difficult as it is for a private, prudent professional to open up about my mental meltdown, I wish to share my struggles with you here, that we might openly dialogue about the deleterious effects of both the COVID-19 pandemic AND the concurrent, yet-unresolved pandemic of virulent racism. My hope is that in offering my candor, we might rise together when this is all over.
STRUGGLE #1: Being Both Black AND Asian (= Blasian) in the Middle of the “Chinese Virus”
When we first learned that the Coronavirus originated in China, all Hades broke loose for my people.
Personally, I had just visited my family in Thailand, and what I returned to was nothing short of a second Yellow Fever. At the outset of the COVID-19 pandemic, Asian people — irrespective of their actual ethnicities — were being banned from stores, assaulted in the streets, shunned in their places of business, and literally spat upon in public spaces. During one of the first virtual antiracism trainings I led via Zoom, several people openly admitted that they would “never eat Chinese food again” because they neither trusted the food nor the people. At ALL.
I am both Black AND Asian. I am Blasian.
When the pandemic first unfolded, I was asked to lead seminars on anti-Asian racism. I spoke about how we might stand in solidarity with Asian Americans as they were being openly disparaged for their Asianness even if they weren’t Chinese!
That work very quickly turned to my leading virtual trainings on how Asian-Americans might stand in solidarity with Black people, as the spate of anti-Black violence continued.
Ahmaud Arbery was hunted and gunned down in broad daylight by two White men who were acting on the authority of their whiteness alone.
George Floyd was held to the ground by a police officer who, along with his colleagues, unceremoniously ignored his plea for breath and life. He was murdered in the street right before the eyes of bystanders, onlookers, and the concerned young woman who captured his killing on a phone.
Not to be outdone, because racism ALWAYS has the audacity — the caucasity if you will — a sleeping Breonna Taylor was violently shot in her own bed, in her own home, having been the victim of a no-knock warrant gone awry.
As a multiracial-mixed with Black woman who presents as both Black and Asian, this summer was difficult.
It started with my worries about outwardly racist people treating my half Thai/half Indian mother like trash at the grocery store. Then my anxieties grew into intense concern for Black protestors first being cast as “rioters, looters, and thugs” as they took to the streets to demand racial justice, and then being shot with actual bullets, rubber bullets, and the disapproving eyes of a racially clueless America.
My first struggle during this pandemic was waking up each day, getting dressed, applying full-face makeup, coming to my computer, being hypercompetent at my job, and DYING inside.
Speaking of having to work…
STRUGGLE #2: Navigating the Coronavirus as Single Woman and Breadwinner-in-Chief
Shortly after the pandemic struck, and I found myself responsible for my same 6-figure student loan debt. My 6-figure mortgage. My 72-month auto loan for a vehicle a HAD to purchase when my former ride of 15 years died beyond repair.
I had to adapt.
Ok first I panicked, but then I adapted.
I quickly transformed my business model to support the reality that I would no longer be hopping on planes, physically traveling to training sites, or interacting directly with people who had expressly agreed to have me join them at a campus, corporate compound, or federal building. I enhanced my in-home technology set-up, I reached out to my network, and I responded to every request for virtual speaking and training I could. I even began writing more, as suddenly I had more time.
I also began this pandemic completely uninsured, and I was terrified to leave my home.
What proved most stressful about this time was the notion that even as I struggled to process my own emotions about the racism all around me, I still HAD to work.
I am a single woman with no access to intergenerational wealth. I am my own breadwinner. I had no choice but to pick myself up, get it together, and feign at least some semblance of sanity before the cameras. After all, White people were paying good money to have me hurry up and process my emotions so I could hurry up and help them process theirs.
And after a long day of wrestling whiteness, discussing antiracism, and being racially re-traumatized by explaining racism to a group of people who, on the whole, do not experience racism on a daily basis, I had no one to process the pandemic with in my home.
My neighbors stepped up and provided baking supplies, cleaning products, and much-needed pandemic check-ins. But as a single woman stuck on a house all alone, working against staunch White racism as my literal job, the quarantine was a BEAST.
Now, before I lament too much about my pandemic singledom, I will also acknowledge the bevy of friends close family members who have either gone through, or are headed toward pandemic divorces.
My busy professional friends have been stuck in homes with partners from whom they had grown apart years ago, but couldn’t know that until the frenetic pace of the pandemic revealed that they were strangers, roommates, and miles away on the antiracism spectrum. In other words, many of them were shouting vastly different things at the news, and that was the dealbreaker.
I would rather be alone than in a relationship that makes me feel alone.
But to be honest, braving the COVID-19 pandemic as a single woman with no emotional or financial support, serving as my own hustle-hard breadwinner, was by no means an easy feat.
I made it, but just barely.
STRUGGLE #3: Supporting My Entire Family and Friendship Circle Emotionally and Financially
As a professional diversity consultant, it’s difficult enough being paid to help process the emotions of other people during one of the most audaciously anti-Black moments in my lifetime. (I did not live through enslavement or lynching, so please forgive the youth of my racial history).
One of the most difficult jobs I had during the Summer of George Floyd was a position for which I received no payment — “Explainer in Chief” to those closest to me.
They say a prophet is not celebrated in her own hometown. My family and friends are generally supportive of my profession, but even THEY turned to me for advice, readings, training resources, and anything whatsoever to help them process the protests and their personal pain.
I actually began writing more in the public sphere not just for my clients and partner organizations, but for my FAMILY AND CLOSE FRIENDS. For the first time in my life, acquaintances and loved ones came out of the woodwork asking me to discuss Black death on the phone. Professional and personal contacts I hadn’t interfaced with in years asked me what to read. What to do! Help, Taharee! THIS IS WHAT YOU DO!
And my own brother — the toughest crowd I know — actually commissioned a piece I should pen by saying, “The next time you write an article, you need to say this! Make sure you write this! Here are some points you need to include!” Another friend of mine outrightly requested a piece on left-leaning liberals and how, in their most extreme form, they might also be part of the racist dilemma: “Taharee, are you going to write a piece about these folks too? What about White people who are either doing too much on the left or not doing enough right now? Are you going to write that!?”
I was flattered at every turn, but I was in no place to write on-demand, help everyone around me process their emotions and pain, AND hold it together as a Black and Asian diversity consultant who was struggling with her own multiracial mess.
To top it all off, after 50 solid years of employment, my mother was compelled to retire. She worked in our public school system transporting differently abled children to and from schools, sports practice, and afterschool programs. She deeply enjoyed working with students who had special needs, but when the pandemic struck, she had no choice but to resign in order to preserve her own life. She is high-risk in every way. She is a 72 year-old Type I diabetic, she is hypertensive, she has high cholesterol, and she grapples with almost every pre-existing condition that renders the Coronavirus deadly for little women of color like her.
Finally, my mother was tested for COVID-19 and hospitalized several times this summer. Her health declined in a way that prevents her from being alone, and one of her arms is now almost unusable. As the highest income-earner in my family, I have been asked to renovate my home for accessibility and an in-law suite, to become her full-time permanent caregiver, and to maintain her comfortable lifestyle without monetary contribution in her retirement.
I love my Mama, but that almost broke me.
STRUGGLE #4: Working with Whiteness at the Zenith of My Racial Battle Fatigue
The pandemic, a gruesome foot injury, and my having to work almost EVERY day — including Sundays! — to both support myself (and now my mother) coalesced into the perfect storm of stress, emotional exhaustion, and racial battle fatigue.
Even before I tore a ligament and ruptured a large tendon in my foot, I was unable to attend group fitness classes, work out at my local gym, and enjoy a birthday gift card for personal training in the private home of my bodybuilder-sports coach. She has a son and couldn’t risk the exposure. After the injury I had to end my stress-relieving ritual of taking a long walk around the lakes in my neighborhood at night, which brought me some modicum of peace.
LOSS OF MENTAL WELLNESS TOOOL A: I lost physical activity and time outdoors as an outlet for stress.
Like many of us, I also experienced a major break in routine. I am an absolute news junkie. Anyone who knows me understands that I read, watch, and consume the news CONSTANTLY so as to incorporate the latest headlines in my teaching, training, and seminars. But based on the negative news coverage of antiracism protestors and veritable justice-seekers, coupled with the constant stream of politically-divided responses to mask-wearing and quarantine precautions, to the outrageously disappointing consequences of those who have senselessly taken Black lives, I quite literally had to stop watching the news. It was re-traumatizing me each time I turned on the television.
LOSS OF MENTAL WELLNESS TOOL B: I lost my routine of consuming the nightly news as an outlet for stress.
Finally, because I was not only tasked with processing my OWN racial pain and emotions, but hurriedly rushed along in order to help others process THEIR racial pain and emotions, I had no mental break. No respite from HAVING to discuss race. Nowhere to hide from primarily White audiences who were asking me, “But what happened before the cameras started rolling?” and “But was Ahmaud just jogging or running from a crime scene?” and every other audacious question such as, “But HOW were these Black people somehow still responsible for their own deaths?”
LOSS OF MENTAL WELLNESS TOOL C: I lost psychological privacy as an outlet for stress.
I had nowhere to hide from my racial battle fatigue. I had nowhere to go and heal from my own racial trauma and re-trauma. I lost my outlet for what I call Cumulative Racial Stress Syndrome (CRSS).
I have literally eaten my emotions. I gained over 30 pounds during the pandemic and the Summer of George Floyd to the point that I no longer resemble the fit, toned, slender woman I just was in my online dating profile. That was really me, potential partners who saw my photos.
Those hips didn’t lie.
But I deleted my online dating profiles after stress-induced, pandemic weight gain so as not to be dishonest or inauthentic. No one deserves that.
LOSS OF MENTAL WELLNESS TOOL D: I lost the ability to interact with single people and potential partners as an outlet for stress.
A single supportive relationship could have provided healthy human connection and much-needed emotional support during this flaming dumpster fire of a summer.
But the solitude continues.
STRUGGLE #5: The Last Straw: Being Banned as an Antiracism Trainer by a President Who Could Benefit from Antiracism Training
At the top of September, Donald Trump issued a targeted ban against my entire profession.
Now I just shared that my SOLE source of income for myself (and now my mom) is generated from my work as diversity and inclusion consultant, with heavy emphasis on antiracism and anti-oppression training.
The Trump administration essentially declared war on what I do (diversity and antiracism training), what I study (critical race theory), and what I specialize in teaching (critical whiteness and empowering White people in the struggle for racial equity).
That was the last straw.
JUST as I landed on full footing in my work with federal agencies and government offices to address their antiracism training needs, Trump labeled my entire profession as “anti-American” and “unpatriotic.” He even referred to it in the first presidential debate as “insane” and “sick.”
What?
So now I cannot work with the very federal agencies, employees, and leaders who most need my help?
Once again, I found myself at a crossroads of cancelled contracts, foregone speaking engagements, and a heavy blow to my income.
This is the precise moment in history when people of all ilk — especially White people — are finally ready, willing, and able to speak candidly about racism and join us in the fight for racial justice.
But I was “cancelled” until further notice, and to be honest, that almost did me in.
Why I’m Still Hopeful Despite this Mentally Challenging Time in History
Even though this year has been trying for me (and many others) in every conceivable manner, I am determined to be resilient.
Yes, I fell the f*ck apart emotionally, psychologically, financially, and physically, but I aim to keep going. I can’t let racism and bigotry win.
I can’t go out like that!
We are on the cusp of the November 2020 election and I am deeply hopeful that the same people who took to the streets with their Black Lives Matter signs and righteous outrage will show up at the polls with those same levels of incredulity, disgust, and rage.
And even IF we do not experience a political party change, I have spoken to enough federal officials, government service (GS) employees, business leaders, nonprofit CEOs, international development players, university presidents, and dedicated decisionmakers who are literally lined up to hire me. Not everyone agrees with the Executive Order that essentially “cancelled” diversity and antiracism training, and many of them are unfazed by the decree. They are working fearlessly, tirelessly, and undauntedly to do what is just and right, irrespective of what the White House says.
Now, THAT’S America at its best.
As far as work, I have been aggressively recruited for several C-suite positions of power, which is rare for a woman of color at any other time. I have been approached for consulting opportunities, guest lectures, and all sorts of diversity trainings and antiracism seminars. It seems as though I will be just fine.
I may have fallen the f*ck apart during the Summer of George Floyd, but by God, I am still here.
Stay with me in the struggle. Racism doesn’t sleep, so we don’t have the luxury of lying down.
If you are struggling with mental health, please see the following resources. Special thanks to Marshall Ott at the American Institute of Physics for culling many of these materials and granting permission to share.
2020 Virtual Wellbeing Fair by Alera Group [OCTOBER 19–23, 2020]
Understanding Racial Battle Fatigue by Dr. William A. Smith
https://attheu.utah.edu/facultystaff/understanding-racial-battle-fatigue/
Racial Microaggressions, Racial Battle Fatigue, and Racism-Related Stress in Higher Education
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1wt4-H-AHApDvduGqqvgOLE5yUebZ3Szl/view
Psychology Today Race and Ethnicity Blog
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/index
*Please see “Take Care, Black Women”
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/take-care-black-women
Stress: A Way of Life or Fact of Life?
https://guidanceresourcestraining.ispringlearn.com/view/11822-GQ9Fd-NssQ1-K5wh9
Check on Your Black Friends and Colleagues…We are Not OK
World Health Organization World Mental Health Day
https://www.who.int/campaigns/world-mental-health-day/world-mental-health-day-2020
Taharee Jackson, Ph.D. is Founder and Tonesetter-in-Chief of DrTaharee Consulting. She has served as a Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging Expert Consultant and antiracism educator, trainer, and speaker for nearly two decades. Dr. Jackson was a professor of Minority and Urban Education for 17 years and remains rooted in the struggle for racial equity and social justice. She is deeply passionate about inspiring members of empowered groups to become allies and accomplices for minoritized people. Dr. Jackson is also passionate about voting in the November 2020 election and brighter days ahead.